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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/982524-Laura-del-Campo/day/4-11-2021
Rated: 18+ · Book · Personal · #982524
Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation.
*Delight*          *Laugh*          *Yawn*

L'aura del campo

'é a lua, é a lua, na quintana dos mortos'
♣ Federico García Lorca ♣

Higgins Street Bridge, April 25th  2009, Missoula, Montana

L'aura del campo. A breeze in the meadow. So it began the last day of Spring, 2005; on the 16th day of the month of Light of the year 162. This is a supplement to my daily journal written to a friend, my muse; notes I do not share. Here I will share what the breeze has whispered to me.


On a practical note, in answer to your questions:

Gifts from NOVAcatmando kiyasama alfred booth, wanbli ska ransomme Iowegian Skye

Merit Badge in Reviewing
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For your support and suggestions on my haiku "Lone Poinsettia" which took second place in the contest and will be published.  Thanks for helping make it a winning poem! Merit Badge in Nano Winner
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CONGRATULATIONS on your achievement! *^*Bigsmile*^* Merit Badge in Reviewing
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For help finding a title for my first chapbook.  We're not there yet, but your ideas are always interesting.
Merit Badge in Funny
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Merit Badge in Friendship
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Thanks for being my friend.


grannym Merit Badge in Appreciation
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For brightening my day with your delightful offerings ~ Thank you so much! *^*Heart*^*



passed away November 12, 2005

Please visit her port to read her poems and her writings.
More suggested links:

A jayhawk with an attitude poses in front of the Alumni Center among the crabapple trees.
These pictures rotate.
 Kåre *Leaf5* Enga
~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go.
~ Elizabeth Bishop,
The Fish
April 11, 2021 at 11:12pm
April 11, 2021 at 11:12pm
April shadows

Ice clings to winter
deep in furrows
where April shadows water-seeps
still frozen
waiting for June's melt.

Should spring ne'er come —

like high-peak snowbanks
persisting year to year,
like traces of life that lie in wait
in dark bleak reaches of the Void,
will I hold on?

Whence then your sun
and when —

come to soften stiffened hearts,
to mend
these scars of frost and drought
scratched across
the sleeping landscape of our thoughts?

When you waken them,
what then?

© Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.40] (13.april.2021)

20 lines

Shadows and Light Poetry Contest  (E)
Do you love the challenge and creativity of free verse poetry? This contest is for you.
#1935693 by Choconut

Dew Drop Inn  (18+)
April poem-a-day poetry spot!
#1370829 by Katya the Poet
April 11, 2021 at 10:48pm
April 11, 2021 at 10:48pm
We are Yellow

Yellowbells rang to buttercups,
beckoning bees
and the Salish
starving for fresh food in this mud season of death,
and tired of fish.

They rang silently on slopes of the mountains,
flats along the river,
wherever there was moisture or a crevice.

Yellow, they rang in clear tones,
we are yellow,
the sign of the last snows
as melt fills the river.

We are Yellow,
a harbinger of plenty to come.

© Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.42] (24.april.2021)

The Taboo Words Contest  (13+)
create writing that has wings
#2139468 by Choconut

Wilflowers taboo words: flower, field, scent, bunch, pretty or any derivatives of these words

April 11, 2021 at 5:51pm
April 11, 2021 at 5:51pm
Minnesota Mayday

We saw Chauvin murder Floyd,
saw it with our own two eyes.
What are we now supposed to deny?

We saw speeches spewing hate,
saw hatred ignite quiescent flames,
saw tiki-torches marching.

We watched the silent films depict
goose-stepping callow beardless youth
never asking how nor why.

We read how Hebrews called upon Heavens
to slaughter their appointed enemies;
heartless, we cheered them on.

We don't look in mirrors tarnished by time,
fearful of what monster therein resides,
wearing our unmasked face.

© Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.40]

Inspired by ridinghhood--p. boutilier
April 11, 2021 at 5:16pm
April 11, 2021 at 5:16pm
So much remains taboo in the post-British-colonial world. The Puritans and Victorians ... left a legacy of joyless rules.

Do I write a poem about sex? Do I write one without limpid rhymes? Is ghastly good enough?

We mixed black and brown and white,
added red and yellow,
painted with our multi-colored palette
to piss over your inhumanity,
your insistence that you were better.

We mangled Shakespeare's plays,
strangled Lord What's-his-face's poems,
as we dared to question
your ignoble history of death,
replaced it with our vibrant colors.

You were never better than we were:
your polluted water made us ill,
your piss perfume hid your fetid odor,
your glee angered us as you killed
anyone who stood in your way.

You stole our language
left us with this bastard tongue
of commerce, pride and treachery.
We want our love back,
our lullabys of bounteous lands and seas.
We beg you go back to where you belong.

You stole our culture,
peace and harmony
and left us fish and chips.


24 lines ... so far.

© Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga, P.O. 22, Blogville (UN: enga at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Kåre Enga, P.O. 22, Blogville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/982524-Laura-del-Campo/day/4-11-2021